


Jealous (I ain't with it)

by Pandasushiroll



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms
Genre: In Denial, It's a silly fic really, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandasushiroll/pseuds/Pandasushiroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Pan does NOT get jealous. (Except. That he totally does). In which Peter gets jealous of the twins and how they interact with Felix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous (I ain't with it)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just seemed really amusing to me. I really like the idea of Peter getting jealous about Felix heheh. Anyway, let the games begin!

Watching Felix play with Ethan and Jeremy (the only set of twins on the island) was something of a treasure. His exaggerated height pitted against their tiny statures was a hilarious image in itself, and watching him interact with such tiny beings was always a good source of entertainment. Like watching a bear play with two baby rabbits. Every movement was carefully chosen, controlled and calculated. Ever the strategist, Felix never made a move he knew the two couldn’t handle, never using too much strength, never truly caught off guard by the actions. But that was just Felix. He _watched; studied; dissected._ He could memorize just about anything set in front of him if he watched it long enough. Which was another good source of entertainment.

Once Peter had tested him by creating a shadow clone of the boy; an exact replica of him and all the things Peter had observed him to be. And Felix had not defeated the copy, he destroyed it, beyond all recognition. As if he were insulted by the idea of Peter recreating him with some flimsy copy.

At first Pan himself had been slightly offended, but the giant had resolved that there would never be any need for a clone, because he could serve his own purpose just fine. But should his time ever do come, Peter should learn to adapt around his faded existence. Peter was never one to take orders from others, and he had meant to tell Felix so right then and there, but at the time he had been so distracted by the notion of the boy’s death that he hadn’t said anything more on the matter.

Felix couldn’t die. It was impossible. Peter would never allow it.

But this concern over Felix’s not-possible doom was definitely not why the boy in the mossy green tunic was stationed in a tree watching over the other boy. Because Peter Pan did not get _concerned._ He wasn’t like Felix. He didn’t’ get caught up in the details or the vast layers of complexity of all the things that could go wrong, because he didn’t care.

He didn’t follow Felix around all the time and make the boys travel in pairs and permanently move Felix into his room because he was _concerned._ He just…liked the proximity and if left to his own devices Felix would never properly bond with the other boys. That was all. Plain and simple. Feelings and concerns had nothing to do with it.

.

Felix wasn’t aware of it, but he became a different person around the twins. He wasn’t normally prone to playing or smiling or making expressions, so the sight of all three at once often had Peter’s head reeling.

He wasn’t jealous or anything.

They were only eight. Sixteen collectively. Hardly anything impressive or threatening about two eight year olds. There wasn’t any need to be jealous.

That’s what Peter tried to make himself believe anyway.

And yet, when he watched his stony faced Lost Boy chuckling at the actions of the two tiny boys, an unpleasant knot began forming in the pit of his stomach. It churned within him, stirring loose emotions he would rather ignore than admit to having. It made him want to pull Felix aside and claim him in the only way he knew how. By fucking him senseless until he saw proof, the sign that Felix was his heart, mind, and soul.

He definitely wasn’t jealous though. He really, really, _really_ was not jealous of two eight year olds making Felix smile. Or making him laugh. Or getting him to play with them when

Peter could barely get him to participate in the bonfire ceremonies. Not even kind of jealous.

Sometimes Peter could fool himself into thinking that it didn’t matter that Felix could manage to function without him. He watched as his favorite boy dangled one of the twins,  
Jeremy , above ground with a hold on both of his ankles. The tiny boy squealed and wiggled within the grasp, while Ethan stood beside the giant boy laughing and yelling encouragements.

More often than not though, the realization that other people could make Felix happy hit Peter harder than any blow ever could. What scared him the most however, was not the realization that Felix could be happy with other people, but the realization that, above all else, Peter wanted Felix to be happy with or without him.

He hated the idea the moment it popped into his head. It was impossible. Felix wasn’t allowed to be happy without him. He also wasn’t allowed to not be with him. But…he didn’t like the idea of Felix spending the rest of his life being miserable and alone. This took him into a series of very uncomfortable lines of thought in which he thought about very mature and reasonable scenarios in which Felix would have to live without him, so he immediately stopped thinking about that all together. Peter tried to feel more comfort at the notion that Felix was staying on Neverland, where they would spend the rest of eternity together. Him and Felix and…the twins.

Now the twins were trying to knock Felix over, each of them throwing their tiny bodies at the much larger one with all the force they could muster. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that they were strong enough to actually bring the giant down, but Felix made a show of falling to the floor anyway. The three lay on the floor for a few moments, Jeremy chattering on enthusiastically about how they had brought the tall boy down, while Ethan took to climbing all over Felix’s legs. Felix listened to them with all the attentiveness that he listened to orders from his king, and Peter couldn’t ignore the nagging pull of not-jealousy in his insides.

It wasn’t like he hated them or anything. (Okay, well maybe a little bit in light of recent events). He just didn’t like when they cut into his time with Felix (which was a relative idea really, since time didn’t actually pass on Neverland.) 

Felix’s laugh—his actual fully formed laugh—pulled Peter from his thoughts, and left him staring stupidly down on the scene of Felix getting mercilessly tickled by the twins.

He had his feet on the ground behind Ethan before the thought to intervene fully formed in his head. The boy was blinking over his shoulder as Peter’s hand came to rest gently on his head. _Say something. Something clever._ “You’ve conquered our resident Yeti I see.”

Both of the young boys grinned triumphantly, proud of their apparent prowess. They had conquered Felix, which was clearly a feat to be proud of. The smile on Peter’s lips felt a little too forced, which he sincerely hoped didn’t show. The boys were speaking before he could get too lost in his own thoughts.

“We got him!” Ethan announced.

“We got him good.” Jeremy amended.

Peter nodded as if he were truly proud of them. “Yes I can see that, and you’ve done brilliantly boys, now,” he knelt down as if he were about to give them their own special assignment, “I think I can take it from here. I need you two to do something of the utmost importance.”

Both boys were poised to listen carefully, leaning in close to their ever clever leader. Peter relished in the way they hung on to his every word. They leaned in close, clearly wanting to keep the secret between just the three of them. Felix lay all but forgotten underneath the two of them, staring contentedly into the vast expanse of sky up above.

“I need you to turn Rufio’s tongue blue.”

“What shade?” said the twins in unison, all business.

“Whichever you like. I just need it blue and I need it done as soon as possible.” Peter smirked at the way Felix’s eyes rolled at the serious tone he was using to issue these pranking orders.

“Yes, sir! We’ll have it done by the end of the day.” Jeremy said as the two offered a haphazard salute, before scampering off into the forest.

“That was a bit much don’t you think?” Felix was much too smug for someone lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. “You could have just said you needed to talk to me.”

“I don’t think it was nearly enough.” Peter kneeled, pressing his knees into the ground, so he could crawl over the lazy form of the taller boy, knees halting at the boy’s sides, hands on either side of Felix’s head. “And besides, now we can have a laugh.”

Peter was leaning down to murmur into his ear, and Felix hummed approvingly. “…you know he’s just going to come crying to us when it happens though.”

His voice pitched up toward the end of the sentence as Peter set his teeth into the soft flesh of Felix’s earlobe. “And then we’ll have a laugh.”

“Whatever you say, Peter.” Felix chuckled, and the sound was so delightful to Peter’s ears that he had all but forgotten the not-jealousy that had been stirring heavily in his stomach earlier.

.

 

“It’s more turquoise than blue.” Slightly chirped, clearly the master of recognizing colors from the color spectrum.

“Turquoise _is_ a shade of blue, dummy.” Curly corrected him, crushing some herbs to bring out the rich colors of red he would need for his latest project.

Slightly seethed, embarrassed and annoyed all at once. “ _I_   _know that.”_

“Guys.” Rufio, who couldn’t really care less what shade of blue his tongue was, spoke around the currently swelling muscle in his mouth.

“I’m just saying that if you’re going to prattle on about shades you should know what colors they belong to.”

“Well nobody pays attention to that kinda crap anyway.”

“Guys.” It was starting, the inevitable bickering between the latest Lost Boy, Slightly, and the well-seasoned artistically inclined Curly, who wasn’t much of a fighter. The others found it a bit odd that the boy could bring out such a sharp tone in the normally quiet, mild mannered, welcoming natured mop haired boy. But now, with his tongue going numb and swelling up to twice its regular size, Rufio really wasn’t in the mood.

“ _I_   _pay attention.”_

“Like I said _nobody—“_

“Ey! Vill yoo guys stoop et alweady?” Both heads swiveled around in surprise. Slightly immediately began dissolving into a fit of laughter as Rufio’s tongue, blue and huge, lolled out of his mouth.

“Rufio…your tongue is…are you feeling okay?” Curly placed his thoughts with others more often than most did, and now was no exception.

“…now yoo notice.”

Tootles sprang out from the bushes then, overtly concerned in the face of Rufio’s apparent peril. “Is he okay?!”

“m fine.” Except for the tongue and everything.

.

As expected, the moment Peter laid eyes on the results of his request, he burst into a fit of gleeful laughter, with Felix smirking and chuckling deeply at his side. Their laughter blended well together, like an off-set melody, high in energy and pitch, backed by a deep and steady bass line. Like one laugh didn’t sound complete without the other. Peter and Felix had always complemented one another.

By then night had fallen and the boys were gathered in the underground house situated beneath Hangman’s Tree, and Rufio’s tongue had calmed down significantly, aided by Curly’s knack for finding soothing herbs on the island floor. Predictably, everyone but the boy who had been victimized was highly amused, namely Felix, Peter, and Slightly. Slightly was amused by just about anything that didn’t happen to him, so he didn’t really count in the way of people laughing at you.

“Is that a good shade?” Ethan peered over right Felix’s shoulder, resting his tiny chin on the wide expanse of cloak and fabric that the tall boy wore. Jeremy was crawling his way into Felix’s lap, turning around to press his back into the older boy’s chest as Felix lifted his plate of food out of the way to make room.

“Quite.” Peter said around the lip of his mug as he stared down from his throne, which Felix always made a point to sit directly in front of or beside. All the boys sat on the floor in a semi-circle facing Peter, as if they were in a constant state of worship. Tonight was the first night Peter found himself sincerely wishing they were all on the same playing field, so he wouldn’t have to watch as the twins turned Felix into their own personal chair.

“I think we did a pretty smackin' good job.” Jeremy nodded in affirmation, grinning cheekily and sticking his tiny fingers into the meat on Felix’s plate. The boy was unbothered, moving to pull loose a piece for the small boy to eat while keeping the other twin delicately balanced on his shoulder.

“We did, didn’t we?” Said twin became restless, apparently unsatisfied with his position, and slipped up and over Felix’s shoulder until half his body was literally teetering over the giant’s large shoulder.

Felix nodded, silently agreeing with the sentiment as he pulled a small chunk free to offer to the twin borderline drooping down the side of his body.

Peter wasn’t jealous.

He could bend Felix over backwards and fold him into a human pretzel if he wanted, could have him so strung out that a litany of Peter’s name would be the only intelligible word he could be able to form, could ask Felix to recited his undying devotion several thousand times until his mouth went dry, or have the boy suck his cock until his throat turned sore. He could have Felix scale mountains covered with thorns, wade through rivers infested with snakes and crocodiles, chop off a limb if he wanted. And Felix wouldn’t bat an eye. He’d accept it with the fierce loyalty that burned within him, right down to his core. Peter knew all of this. Felix was his. Wholly and unequivocally.

And yet…

As he watched his favorite Lost Boy pull the twin from his shoulder and set him neatly down beside his brother so they could share space in his lap, Peter had to wonder if he knew all of this—if he knew Felix was really and truly his…

Why did he feel so…not…jealous?

  
.

 

 _He **is** mine though._ Peter told himself as he watched Felix strip himself of the many articles of clothing he wore. With each layer shed this thought reoccurred in Peter’s mind. _He’s mine. He is._ _He **is** mine. **He is.**_ Until finally he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled Felix down into the bed. He hadn’t gotten his pants or boots or socks off yet, which left him blinking up at Peter for a few moments, waiting for an order, or something to indicate what he was meant to do.

Peter growled, frustrated with the multiple paths his mind had wandered down and the foreign feeling of jealousy still present, heavy like a rock in his stomach. It weighed down, a ton, two tons, heavier than steel. It grated against his nerves, rubbing him raw until he couldn’t separate one sensation from the next. He pulled at Felix wildly, urging the boy onto all fours above him, barking out orders he didn’t even fully register.

He wanted to forget all of the scenarios in which he or Felix died. He wanted to forget the not-jealousy, and the way it turned his stomach over at the thought that he couldn’t compete with two _children._ All of it needed to leave his mind.

But he couldn’t do it on his own.

And that thought, more than anything else, more than the unfamiliar feelings and the restless sense that something was missing, there was something that lay forgotten in the back corners of his mind and he couldn’t place a name on it. All if it had to go.

  
.

 

That night he ordered Felix to fuck him until neither of them could move.

Bodies debilitated by a constant string of rough unfiltered sex, in which Felix’s back was covered in ribbons of crimson that caked underneath Peter’s fingertips and Peter’s body lay littered with bruises of various shades of blue, black, and purple.

Felix panted into soaked skins of their mattress, skin overheated, nerves overstimulated, breathing so hard it didn’t seem like it was humanly possible for him to catch his breath.

Peter hummed, sighing contentedly. Like he’d just taken a refreshing bath and not had his brains nearly fucked out. A kiss was in the curve of his smile as he fought with his muscles to strain onto his side, mouth open and panting against the slick sweat on Felix’s neck.

“…that’s my favorite Lost Boy.” He managed, eyelids drooping shut under the onslaught of fatigue. Felix moaned pitifully into the skin underneath them, a blob of worn out, but well-fucked, boy.

Some half formed chuckle wheezed out of the tall boy, and Peter knew he would be asleep soon. So he gave the order.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow, an I dun need you dragging your feet.” Fatigue was slurring his speech, turning it sleepy and soft, pillowy compared to his usual firm tone. Felix grunted in affirmation, shifting sore muscles around until he pressed his cheek onto the hot plane of Peter's chest, head lolled to the side, eyes shut. With his last ounces of strength, Peter wound his fingers into the mass of tangles, damp from the toils of sex, but strangely soft. 

 _Wait a minute. Did he...?_ Felix's hair wasn't very complex, if he washed it well enough the tangles didn't form quite so easily. Usually he only washed it with Peter--because he had this stupid thing about baths. He liked to be  _clean_ or at least, relatively clean, every once and awhile. Peter took the opportunity to enjoy some time alone with him, in the secret spring he kept just for Felix in one of the caves underneath the waterfall. But today apparently, Felix had gone without him. Bristled, Peter strained forward, bending himself awkwardly, to lean down and sniff the other boy's hair. If he had used the spring, his hair would smell of warmth, springtime, and mangos (because Peter liked the idea of Felix smelling like his favorite fruit). He inhaled nothing but the smell of sea water--no wait,  _river_ water. So he had taken a bath, he just hadn't used the spring.

Naturally, this sort of betrayal needed an explanation. 

So he tugged none too gently on Felix's hair, earning a sleepy little half groan in response. "Felix." His tone was still softened by the threat of fatigue, but Peter didn't let that stop him from sounding annoyed.

No response.

He pinched the boy's cheek with his other hand, after another tug to lift Felix's face of his chest. " _Felix."_

Felix whined, clearly exhausted and ready for sleep. "...Mmm?"

"Why is your hair not tangled?" He was still holding Felix's head up, so he could look at his face.

A bundle of tired wrinkles formed on Felix's forehead as he processed the information at sluggish speeds. "...what?"

"Your hair. It isn't tangled. You must have taken a bath."

Felix was fighting rather valiantly to stay awake. Had Peter not been so distracted by the beginnings of annoyance and not-jealousy stirring up within him again, he might have taken a moment to be amused and laugh. 

Felix struggled on with trying to form words in the face of the monster of sleep trying to pull him down. "Yeah....the..." He paused to yawn widely, shutting his eyes briefly and opening them again. They were watery, reflective. Peter could see his own tired reflection in them. "...twins wanted tah...take one."

"So you took a bath with them?" 

"...yeah. Why?"

"Unbelievable."

Peter dropped the boy's head unceremoniously and proceeded to shove him off his chest. Felix groaned in pain, but went without a fight. As per usual. The submission might have been more satisfying if Peter weren't so annoyed with him. He knew Felix was confused, he could sense it in the way the boy's body slowly strained to pivot back around so he could stare at his face. But he wasn't going to get an explanation, that much was obvious in the way Peter crossed his arms over his chest and flipped onto his side to face away. But Felix must have figured something out, or decided he didn't care what Peter was upset about, because he was shuffling closer, the heat of his chest sticking their skin together as it pressed up against Peter's back.

Peter loosened, without his notice, when Felix's arms came around him, slipping over the front of his stomach and wedging underneath Peter's side. It made it rather difficult to keep for Peter to keep his arms crossed, so he didn't, choosing to snuggle in rather than be without the extra warmth the tall boy provided. An apology was at the base of Peter's neck in the form of a kiss, a bare press of lips to neck underneath the small gathering of curls there.

"Sorry." Felix said automatically.

"For what?"

"Everything."

Peter chuckled, unable to stop the noise from rising in his throat, and reached behind him to give the other boy's cheek a gentle stroke, cooing, "Good boy." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this just occurred to me, the title is named after the song "Jealous (I Aint With it) by Chromeo which is essentially about a guy who gets really jealous all the time but is just too cool to admit it. I thought it'd be a nice touch haha.


End file.
